Take Control
by mercy4vr
Summary: It’s all about taking control... After a bad day, Nick just wants to shower and go home, but is interrupted by the very person who aggravated him. CatNip.


**Disclaimer**: I don't own 'em, don't claim to. So don't sue me, eh?

**Summary**: It's all about taking control. CatNip.

**A/N**: I wrote this ficcie for my shippy buddy CatherineStokes (read/rvw her fics!). Big thanks to Moriel21 for being my faithful guinea pig, er… I mean beta/previewer! ;) This is the first fanfic I have written for the Vegas CSI, so I hope y'all enjoy!

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**_TAKE CONTROL  
_**

Dawn had come and gone at the Las Vegas Crime Lab. The day shift had just received their assignments and had dispersed to the field. The night shift had packed it away for the day and stumbled wearily home… most of them, anyhow.

* * *

Nick Stokes shoved the door to the locker room open roughly. Striding to his locker he yanked it open with such force that it hit the neighboring locker before rebounding with a loud clang. He growled with aggravation and grabbed the handle again, pulling it ajar and then pushing it fully open with the palm of his hand. 

What a hell of a day it had been. He had been assigned to a triple homicide with Warrick and Catherine. The complexity of the crime scene would have been enough to raise his blood pressure on a normal day, but his coworkers certainly hadn't helped his mood any. Cath seemed to be in full supervisor mode, ordering him around as though he were her personal servant, prompting Warrick to keep up a constant string of snarky jokes about him being Catherine's gopher.

_Had he opened his loud mouth one more time, it would've been justifiable homicide, _Nick thought darkly.

He couldn't really blame the guy, though. He might've done the same had their roles been reversed after a day filled with "Nick, run this over to Trace and tell them to put a rush on it," "Nick, go back to the Denali and get the electrostatic print lifter," "Nick, glove up and go through the garbage from last night in the restaurant's dumpster," "You need to make sure to go over the area in a consistent pattern so you don't miss anything, Nick, and then make sure to bring me the results right away," and so on and so forth.

_She's always been keen on being in control, but this is getting ridiculous. _Nick shook his head at the thought, grabbing his towel before hitting the showers. He hoped a nice hot shower would ease some of the tension from his neck and shoulders, and get rid of the lingering dumpster cologne his body was sporting.

* * *

Ten minutes later, Nick fairly stomped back to his locker clad only in a towel, slamming its door open again. 

_How can a building this big, this intricate, and this expensive not have enough water heaters so that I can get a hot shower? Huh? Answer me that. _He ran the fingers of one hand through his hair in a frustrated gesture, all the while dripping cool water on the floor around his feet. He certainly smelled better, but his mood was darker than ever after an uncomfortable shower.

He stood glaring at the contents of his locker without actually seeing them. He heard the locker door open, and saw a flash of strawberry blonde hair out of the corner of his eye. He turned his torso in her direction to verify his assumption of who it was. _Great, just great. _He turned back to his locker determined to ignore her presence.

Catherine stilled momentarily at the sight before her. Nick was standing at his open locker, completely undressed except for a small towel which was slung precariously low on his hips. His dark hair was damp and spiked out in different directions as a result of running his hand through it. Water droplets glistened across his chest and a few rivulets of water trailed down his toned abs, and lower yet, a few water trails were evident on his muscled calves. She unconsciously licked her lips before speaking.

"Nick, you should have already been out of here a while ago," she said, moving to her locker.

He gave her a fleeting look of ire. "I'm off the clock, Catherine, and out of your boundaries of control."

She started slightly, sensing the anger behind his statement. "Have you got a problem with women in authority?" She asked, going on the defensive out of long term habit.

He turned fully towards her with a dark storm of fury brewing in his eyes and took a few steps forward, closing the gab between them to only a couple of feet.

"I haven't got a problem with women in authority; I've got a problem with people who abuse their control." His words were sharp and hit their intended target with accuracy.

His words quickly fueled her temper and she bit back with "Perhaps you just have a problem with people in authority because they are more capable of taking control than you are."

Before she could take more than a breath, Nick quickly stepped forward and pressed her back against the lockers. His hands tightened on her waist and he brought his mouth down forcibly on hers. Catherine struggled briefly with her fists against his shoulders, but swiftly succumbed to the passion of the kiss. Her fists opened and slid down his shoulders to grasp his biceps tightly. She opened her mouth slightly, and he took ample advantage, plundering her mouth with his tongue. Nick slid his hands slowly upwards, skimming lightly beneath her shirt and brushing her ribs.

As their mouths broke apart in a desperate need for air, he began to trail kisses down her jaw, and light bites down the graceful line of her neck. Catherine angled her neck to give him better access, unable to restrain the moan that began deep in her chest. Nick moved his hands to her shoulders and pushed her jacket down, revealing the camisole tank top it had concealed and trapping her arms at her sides. He used one hand to pull the strap of her camisole further down, and continued to lavish attention on her throat progressing to gentler ministrations across her collar bone.

Nick lifted his head slightly, brushing his lips just below her jaw, the gentle sensation combined with the warmth of his breath causing Catherine to tremble in his arms.

He murmured softly against her neck.

"Do you still doubt my ability to take control, Catherine?"

**

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A/N2:** Now… imagine my cute little plot bunny standing all alone on the street corner of a busy road, holding up a little cardboard sign that says "Will Work For Reviews"… 


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